Peripatetic Meditations 



again. Wrecks and ruins tliat delight the poet 

 and novelist have no proper place from my 

 point of view. They blur the landscape; are 

 blots on the fair face of Nature. They teach 

 us much valuable truth, I am told, but I do not 

 feel the need of it as yet. These are merry 

 May days, not pitiless December ones, weighted 

 with wise saws; and living myself, I am in love 

 with life. 



But when these woods are dark, what then? 



Darkness has its disadvantages, it is true, 

 but it is the same world whether bathed in light 

 or wrapped in gloom. We really make the dif- 

 ference that we find and wrongly ascribe it to 

 one of Nature's unamiable moods. Strike a 

 match and not a tree will be found walking 

 away nor the grass disappearing. Star-light is 

 not sun-light, I admit, but the difference is in 

 degree and not in kind. There is danger in 

 darkness, but this is minimized by the exercise 

 of care. It is no such hardship as people think 

 to feel our way instead of forging straight 

 ahead as we do during the day. If we felt our 

 way, when we can see as well as feel, it would 

 often be better for us. Light makes us over- 

 confident, at times and we grow impatient over 



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